


Never Say Goodbye

by Mistyshadows



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drunk Dean, F/M, Flashbacks, Mild Language, Nicknames, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2018-08-10 19:32:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7858237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistyshadows/pseuds/Mistyshadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You and Sam Winchester had been in a relationship for what felt like forever. One day he gets a call from his brother, and what happens next hurts you beyond any pain you'd felt before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. As I Sit In This Smokey Room

"(Y/n)? I'm leaving."  
  
You look up into your boyfriend Sam Winchester's hazel eyes, and feel your heart lurch in fear.  
  
"W-why?" you hate the shake of panic in your voice; you know you sound emotionally weak and you hate any weakness. You suppose you get that from your father, who was a hunter like Sam used to be. You gingerly place a bookmark in the novel you were reading, and stand slowly.  
  
"Dean needs me. I can't abandon him." Sam says, sounding upset, and he has tears in his eyes. You have rarely seen him cry, so the fact he is about to hurts you.  
  
Impossibly, somehow you feel relief and you begin to tell him to go to his brother, just as long as he comes back in one piece, when he interrupts, "It was never going to work anyway."  
  
Your knees suddenly feel weak and you're afraid they will buckle beneath you. You can't breathe; it feels like someone just punched you in the gut. Is this what panic feels like?  
  
"This is for the best. I hope you understand. I love you, and I always will." Sam says, picking up a suitcase that you can tell is already filled with his things. He said it so simply, like he had said it a hundred times before. Had he? He never talked about his personal life from before except Dean...  
  
The tears begin to sting as you hold them back from falling over your lashes. Why does this hurt so goddamn much?  
  
"(Y/n)?" Sam's voice jolted you from your thoughts, concern in his eyes.  
  
Your (e/c) eyes find his as he leans in as if to kiss you, but suddenly you are furious. You don't really know why, you just are. Nobody has ever hurt you like this, and you didn't think anyone ever would.  
  
"Don't touch me!" you shout, shoving him and stepping away.  
  
Sam backs away, shocked, then it softens into a sad smile. "Goodbye, (y/n). I love you."  
  
For some reason, this hurts so much more. "Stop trying to make it hurt less. You're only pissing me off." you growl, glaring at him.  
  
Sam nods once and turns to leave. You watch him walk out the door and get into his old junkie Dodge Challenger and drive off, leaving a trail of dust behind him.  
  
As soon as he is gone, down the road and out of sight, you let the tears fall as your heart shatters into a million pieces.


	2. The Night About To End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're alone now, Sam having already left. Two months later, when there's a knock on the door, who is it that stands there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Language... just saying...

Your phone rings at 2am, waking you from another restless sleep. Even though its been two months since Sam left you, the pain lingers like a physical wound.

You groan, sit up, and squint to see the caller I.D., and you see its Sam's older brother, Dean. You hesitate but answer it anyway, figuring it couldn't possibly hurt you any more than you already do.

"Hello?"

"(Y/n)? Its Dean."

"I know. Its 2 in the morning. What the fuck do you want?" you say, your voice straining.

"I know its been a while since we spoke last, but I was wondering how you're doing." Dean responds, seemingly chipper.

"What the fuck do you care?" you ask, the coldness in your voice almost making you shiver. "This couldn't wait until a normal hour?" You don't know why you're cursing so much. Usually you reserve any foul language for speaking to your brother, but now seems like a great time to swear.

"I know its early, and I'm sorry, but I couldn't wait until morning." he says, "Because from what I understand, my brother broke your heart. I'm only checking to see how you're doing."

"Well, you don't have to worry about me. I'm completely fine." you say quietly before hanging up. Its unsettling, how quiet it is now, and you wonder if you'll be able to get back to sleep.

You sit up and-  
                                               

* * *

_Flashback:_  
The library was peaceful. You had always loved how quiet it always remained and how it smelled like books, fresh and old. That's probably why you worked there, just to help customers find the books they needed. Usually that allowed you to hide among the racks until you saw someone needing help or reading to the preschoolers that came on field trips sometimes.

You were flipping through a guide to Paris when movement caught your eye.

You started, and realized it was only a man.

His height was what you noticed first, (he had to be a foot or so taller than you) then his brown hair that fell perfectly around his face. His brow was furrowed in his concentration, and didn't seem to see you watching him. You saw a second book about Paris just above where the man stood, and decided to use it as an excuse to talk to him.

"Excuse me, sir?" you said, rolling onto the ball of your foot so you became slightly taller.

He turned and you found yourself staring into beautiful hazel eyes that made your heart pound.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but, um," you said nervously, "Can you please get that book for me? The one about Paris?"

The man smiled and nodded, reaching up for it, then down to hand you the book.

"Thank you." you said, feeling a blush creep into your cheeks.

"No problem." he said. His voice was soft gentle, and it made you like him even more.

"You new here? I don't think I've ever seen you around." you said, resting the book on your hip.

"I'm just passing through. I'm staying for a few weeks to help a friend with a problem." he said, shrugging.

"Oh, okay. Well, I'm (y/f/n), by the way. I work here, so if you need help, just call."

"I'm Sam. Sam Winchester. Thank you, Miss (y/l/n)." he said, smiling.

"Oh. Please, its just (y/n). And I should be the one thanking you. I mean, for-"

* * *

_End Flashback:_  
You wake, your heart aching again as you remember how easy it had been getting to know the man from the library, when Sam had been the handsome stranger who you had immediately had a crush on.

You sigh and lay back into your pillows, unable to find a comfortable spot.

Dawn can't come soon enough.


	3. I Pass My Time with Strangers

A few days later, a shiny black Chevy Impala pulls up in your driveway, and you think nothing of it. Lost people seem to think your driveway will lead them to the promised land. Instead of a lost tourist, you open the door to Dean Winchester.

He sticks his foot in the door when you try to slam it in his face. He winces in pain but shouts, "(Y/n)! You crazy bitch, let me in!"

"Move your goddamn foot! Leave me alone!" you shout, sounding more and more desperate.

"Shut up for just a second! I hated it when you and Sammy were all lovey-dove-chick-flick and shit, but Sam and you…" he trailed off, shaking his head.

"Are done. When he left he said 'its was never going to work anyway' and 'its for the best.' Like that isn't cliché bullshit." you growl, unwillingly opening the door and letting him in.

Dean rolls his eyes as he walks in and says, "Sammy isn't used to long-term relationships. He finds a girl, thinks he loves her, then something remotely bad happens and he runs off. He is scared for every woman he's been with. He's afraid of what might happen to them if they stick around too long."

"Like demons and vampires chasing them down and ripping their throats out." you say, crossing your arms.

"How did you-"

"Sam told me. And showed me his journal. Talks in his sleep. Usually something about someone named Crowley. And another… Cas?"

"What does he say for the names?" Dean asks cautiously.

"Always telling Crowley off. Like 'back off, Crowley, you don't know what you're dealing with.' That kinda thing. Then for the other, Cas, he says, 'Cas, no, please, don't!'" you say, imitating how Sam calls out in his sleep.

Dean narrows his eyes but says nothing.

"Who are they?" you ask.

"Crowley is a demon. Actually, he is the King of Hell, and we've met him more than once. He is a complete asshole. Cas' full name is Castiel, and he is an angel, and a good friend of ours."

"Why did he having nightmares about telling Castiel 'no?'"

"That's probably when Cas went insane and started killing people. That was pretty damn scary." Dean admitted quietly, as if he was worried either Sam or Castiel would hear.

You nod once and he sighs.

"Sammy needs you, even if he won't admit it. He hasn't been with another girl- hell, hasn't even LOOKED at another girl- since he left because he truly loves you. That takes dedication to someone." Dean says.

You turn away, feeling tears stinging your eyes. For some reason, a song lyric pops into your head: "I love the way you cry. Glass over diamond blue eyes."

"(Y/n)? Please, come back with me. Sam needs you."

"If he needed me, he would be here. Not you." you say, feeling the wounds in your heart reopen.

"(Y/n), did you know you are a stubborn bitch?"

"I know." you say, still facing away.

Dean's fingers wrap around your arm gently. "Please. He needs you."

"Get out of my house."

"(Y/n)-"

"I SAID 'GET OUT!'" you yell, trying to yank your arm away from Dean's grasp.

His grip is tight, and he won't let go. "C'mon, princess." he says, using the nickname he gave you after Sam brought you "home" for the first time.

You pull away and-  
                            

* * *

 _Flashback:_  
"Dean? You here?" Sam calls into the hotel room.

You stand behind him, nervous.

The lights are off, and the sun is setting soon, casting eerie shadows across the room. This place is an absolute dive. There are mold stains all over the building, and it smells faintly of rotten eggs.

You hear a groan from the darkness and a shape moves on one of the beds. "WHAT, Sammy?" moans the shape.

A light comes on and you see a man laying in the bed.

"I want you to meet a friend of mine. Dean, this is (y/n). (Y/n), my brother, Dean." Sam says, a cute smile gracing his face.

"Hi." you say, waving once and feeling awkward.

Dean rolls out of the bed and stumbles over. You can smell the liquor on his breath before he even makes his way to you.

"Hello, princess." he says.

Sam looks like he's going to shove Dean but Dean trips and falls backwards, then runs to the bathroom.

 The sound of him vomiting turns your stomach and Sam looks at you apologetically, his hazel eyes in disbelief as he says, "He's not usually so drunk. I'm sorry you had-"

* * *

 _End Flashback:_  
You are shaken from your thoughts when Dean picks you up and carries you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Put me down, you asshole!" you scream.

"I'm sorry, (y/n), but I have to do this."

"No you DON'T!" But Dean doesn't respond as he tosses you into the backseat of the Impala.

"Damn you, Dean!" you shout.

"Been damned before, so I don't think you scare me too bad, princess." Dean laughs harshly, throwing the shifter in gear and spinning the tires.

"Fuck." you mutter, slouching in the backseat.

"Not an option." Dean jokes, but all you do is scowl at him and face the window.

Trees blur by, and you feel the exhaustion of missing Sam crash down on you. Every time that he held you, kissed you, told you that you were beautiful, that you were special, that he would never leave became knives in you. The two of you hadn't ever fought, but you did argue with each other or pick at weak spots like some couples did. But Sam had broken his promise of not leaving you, and it hurt like it did when it first happened. Dean's return had only reopened the wounds and added new.

Dean glances at you in the mirror, green eyes filled with concern. "You alright back there?"

"No."

"Why not, princess?"

"Maybe because you just fucking KIDNAPPED me?!" you snort, glaring at him.

"Its for your own good." Dean says wearily, rubbing his eyes.

"Whatever, asshole." you mutter.

After that, it had been mostly silent except when Dean had tried to engage you in conversation several times before he finally gave up when you stayed silent.

"I'm just trying to help you guys and you won't even talk to me?" Dean asks with disbelief in his voice.

You give him the finger and he finally shuts up for good. The silence is almost worse than Dean's constant chatter.

Almost.


	4. But This Bottle's My Only Friend

"Hey, princess, wake up." Dean's voice startles you from your restless sleep. You grunt and slowly sit up, your head pounding.  
  
"Do you want anything?" he asks, nodding towards a 24 hour gas station that he's pulled up to. Its dark outside, and the dashboard clock says its just after midnight.  
  
"I gotta pee." you mutter. Dean sighs but lets you out. Surprisingly, you have no intention of running.  
  
The service station is borderline worthy of a visit by the health department, but its clean enough that you don't gag when you walk in, like some dodgy places you've had to go in before. The florescent light flickers like a bad cliché. A dirty mop its in one of the corners, but you doubt its been moved in weeks, maybe months. When you try to run the faucet, all that comes out is a weak stream.  
  
After you walk back out, Dean is waiting at the car with a wrapped up bacon cheeseburger and a Coke in hand, which he hands both to you after you get back in the car. As much as you dispise him for forcing you here against your will, you feel a slight gratitude that he at least pays for you to eat.  
  
Dean gives you a smile as you inhale the burger and gets back in the car. "Ready?" he asks. You shrug, pacified by your food. Dean laughs and backs out of the parking space.  
  
"Happy for now, huh?" he throws over his shoulder, winking at you in the mirror. You mumble something through your mouth full and give him the finger. He laughs and speeds off, leaving tire marks in front of the gas station.  
  
After a while of driving in silence, Dean reaches for the radio and finds a rock station. You recognize the song playing and hum along. Dean glances at you, and smiles faintly.  
  
"You couldn't hate enough to love. Is that supposed to be enough? I only wish you weren't my friend, then I could hurt you in the end. I never claimed to be a saint. My own was taken long ago-" you sing the song, "Snuff" by Slipknot, feeling tension slip away.  
  
You close your eyes roughly, tears threatening to spill over for the hundredth time today. You feel Dean's stare rest on you again, but you ignore it and silently cry into your hands. You can hear Dean suck in a breath as if he's preparing to say something, but he never does, leaving the car quiet, the music the only noise breaking the insanity.  
  
The song slowly ends, leaving it completely silent for a moment. You quickly wipe away the tears and breathe in deeply, trying to relax and not let Dean see your bloodshot eyes.  
  
"(Y/n)-"  
  
"Don't." you interrupt, finally looking up.  
  
The older Winchester brother watches you again, green eyes searching your face for God knows what.  
  
You pick at a thread on your jeans, giving it a slight tug. It doesn't give. You tug again, harder and sharper, and it breaks but also leaves a small hole. You continue to ruin your jeans by stretching the hole and picking at the remaining thread. You stare at the exposed skin beneath the hole, and see the scars you put there long before Sam ever broke your heart. You trace the scars, their perfect, straight lines disturbing you for some reason.  
  
Dean watches you in the mirror. What ever he's thinking, he better hurry up and finish the thought, or you're going to get angry. Correction: angrier.  
  
"Hey, (y/n). Wanna ride in the front?" Dean finally asks, slowing down a little.  
  
You stare at him, questioning why he's even bothering to try and help you and Sam.  
  
After a long moment, you decide to nod and Dean pulls over into a dark driveway. You get out of the car and stand beside it, wondering how far you could make it before he caught you. Not very far, you suppose, so you climb into the seat beside Dean. No more mirror glances, no more hiding emotions. Its all exposed while you're in the front seat.  
  
So much for hating Dean.


	5. Remember When We Used to Park

* * *

 

Flashback:  
  
Sam pulls you into an embrace, trying to quiet your sobs. He whispers consolations, trying to soothe you.  
  
This can't be real. It can't be.  
  
Your sister Erika was not in a car accident with a drunk driver. She is not in the hospital, surrounded by doctors who mutter quietly to each other. She is not hooked up to monitors that beep angrily a few times every second as her heart tries to pump blood through her body. She isn't needing a breathing machine that fogs when she draws a breath. Her heart monitor doesn't flatline, the incessant beeping turning into one long outstretched noise. She will wake up in a minute, perfectly fine. The blood seeping from under bandages is fake.  
  
This is all a joke. She is going to wake up. She has to. But she doesn't.  
  
More doctors and nurses rush in when Erika's monitor stops. Defibrillators are brought out and electricity flows through her body. They try and try but all that happens is her body rising and falling back onto the hospital bed, her eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling.  
  
Sam holds you tighter when they wheel Erika from her room, a sheet over her head like in the movies. Except this isn't a movie. This is… somehow real.  
  
You begin to scream, wanting to tear through the hospital and beg them to try to make her come back. Anything to save her. Anything to get her back.  
  
But Sam is there. He keeps you from going completely insane. His voice brings a small bit of calm into the chaos.  
  
You allow yourself to mourn, no matter how loudly, because he's there and you know he will wipe the tears away.  
  
Finally, you look up at him, and see he has his own tears beginning to spill over his dark lashes. "Oh God, I'm so, so sorry that this happened, (y/n)-"

End Flashback

* * *

  
  
You open your eyes into blinding light. The sun had to have come up sometime after you fell asleep. You groan, pressing the lever to lean your seat upright. A blurry shape you realize is Dean doesn't say anything, just lets you wake up in quiet.  
  
"Where are we?" you rasp, your voice rusty.  
  
"About two miles from where we meet up with Sam." Dean says, and you feel your heart clench in fear. What will Sam do when he sees you?  
  
"Don't worry about seeing him." Dean says, seemingly reading your mind without even looking at you. You glance at him, and he smiles slightly.  
  
"I'm not worried." you lie.  
  
Dean glances at you out the corner of his eye; he doesn't buy your lie. Hell, were you in his place, you wouldn't either. You were never a good liar.  
  
Tears seem to come from deep within you but you hold them back as you burn your lungs when you try to not breathe. But somehow the tears come anyway, and spill over your lashes. Uncontrollable sobs rack your body and only intensify when you try to stop.  
  
Dean lets you cry, staying quiet until your tears slow.  
  
Finally, you hiccup, "I- I'm sorry. I don't know why-"  
  
"(Y/n), you don't gotta lie to me. I get it. It'll be better as soon as y'all see each other again."  
  
"How the hell do you know? You can't see the future. What if he doesn't want to see me? Ever think of that?" you yell, suddenly furious at the man.  
  
Again, Dean lets you get your emotions out, then he says, "(Y/n), you should trust me. He wants to see you just as much as you want to see him."  
  
"He told you this?"  
  
"No, but I know my brother better then I know myself most of the time." Dean shrugged, turning onto a dirt road leading up the side of a mountain.  
  
The car jostles on the road. You try to look out the window, but all you see are pine trees, the patterns of their green needles dizzying. The "road" smooths out a bit, and you relax and stop gripping the seat so tightly.  
  
"Here we are. Home sweet home." Dean jokes, trying to make you smile. All it does is make you more afraid.  
  
In front of the car is a door built into the side of the mountain itself. It reminds of you of a bank vault. Secure. Cold. Behind it on the hill is what looks like an abandoned factory, its doors rusty and windows broken and some boarded up.  
  
"C'mon, princess." Dean nods towards the door of the bunker. You narrow your eyes, and he smirks, walking ahead of you. For whatever reason, you follow him without a word.  
  
Let's get this over with.


	6. updates

Hello, dearest reader! I apologize for being unable to update as often as I'd prefer, but there's been a lot of stuff going on including but not limited to: school, family issues, not having wifi at home, writer's block, and the distractions of an original work that I'm currently writing! (If you want more infomation on the original work, you can contact me at moonkit26@gmail.com.) To those of you who want more of this story, hit kudos, post a comment, and I will get to you as soon as I can. Don't forget to subscribe. Happy reading!

Love, Mistyshadows


	7. Chapter 7

Dean led you inside the bunker, and down a flight of metal stairs. You started to panic. This was all too much. First Dean kidnapped you, then he told you that you were going to see Sam again, now this? When would this nightmare end?

 

Dean sat you down at a large table that doubled as a map. "Wait here, okay? I'm gonna go find Sammy. Don't touch anything." When you nodded, he gave you what he thought was a reassuring smile, then he left.

 

Your mind was whirling. How big was this place? Several hallways stretched off the main room, and you could see there were more adjacent to those.

 

On a bookshelf sat a shiny katana, and further down were some assorted artifacts. It was relatively clean, which for some reason bothered you. Dean didn't seem to belong in clean bunkers; he seemed to belong in cheap motel rooms, dimly lit bars, and driving that old car outside. That's how you saw him.

 

Suddenly, you could hear raised voices from the hallway Dean had disappeared down. You stood, walked to the doorway, and listened.

 

"Why the hell did you bring her here? I didn't want you to go kidnap her!"

 

"I brought her here so you'd stop moping around like some heartbroken teenager!"

 

"Fuck you, Dean! She doesn't belong here!"

 

Ah, there it was. The truth that hurt the most.

 

A door slammed and Dean came stalking through, brushing past you. His eyes burned like green fire, and you had the sudden thought he could set the bunker ablaze with that fire. After pacing for a moment, he muttered, "He's such a whiny pissbaby."

 

You sat back in your seat, feeling small. Your chest felt like it was about to explode, and your voice cracked as you asked, "So can I go now?"

 

The words were barely out of your mouth when Sam appeared in the doorway. He refused to look at you but headed straight for Dean.

 

"Take her home."

 

Dean stood up straight and cocked his head. "Why won't you even talk to her?"

 

Sam's eyes unwillingly shifted to you. He squeezed his eyes shut as if he were having a bad headache. In a way, he was; Dean was the human equivalent to a migrane. "I didn't ask you to bring her here."

 

"It sucks to be talked about when you're right here, you know," you say, somehow managing to keep your voice from wavering.

 

Sam turned away, but you could see him reach for the hand with the scar; you knew he pressed it when things seemed... different. Dean smacked his hand away. "Dammit, Sammy, this isn't a hallucination! (Y/n) deserves to know why you just up and left."

 

"No, no, I don't really care," you said, waving your hand dismissively. "No need."

 

Sam flinched, then stood straighter. "Take her home," he repeated before walking back the way he came.

 

Dean sighed, sitting beside you. He threw his feet up onto the table; everything about him screamed exhaustion. "Well that went well."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyyyy I'm baaaaack 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey leave a comment at the bottom!
> 
> Also, if you want to request anything, send me an email at moonkit26@gmail.com! If its part of my fandoms, I will try to write the best I possibly can. Hit me up, mate!
> 
> -MoMo


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